Safety
by Miamigirl88
Summary: At her mother's death bed, Charlotte Maurer promised that she would stay safe in the interior of Wall Sina. Raised at the hands of the nobility, the illegitimate child of Erwin Smith will do everything in her power to keep her promise and aims to join the Military Police to do so. [Erwin x OC] [Armin x OC] Rated T for blood and language
1. Prologue - Condolences

**AN: First and only disclosure, I do not own Attack on Titan or any of Hajime Isayama's affiliated characters. I don't own anything but my OCs.**

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Prologue - Condolences

Year 834

Safety.

To live in a state free from harm, without worry. The century of seclusion from the rest of the world sharpened the definition into a sharp, biting truth. The outside was hell, and the remainder of humanity reached the consensus that the three walls, Maria, Rose, and Sina could be considered nothing short of goddesses offering divine protection. A gift from the heavens to be cherished and praised. There was no question as to what they were safe from – no one was ignorant of the titans' existence. Even the king's landed and titled class understood that they were blessed. The threat never loomed over them, but the news from the outer two walls kept them ever aware of the dangers outside – reports of casualties from the Survey Corps and the grumbling of wasted taxes were always an easy topic of conversation to fall on.

Erwin kept a fluid stride, navigating the district in the early evening. The interior was most certainly not his favorite place to be, even compared to the dangers outside. While these "high standing" members of society never feared a titan breathing down their necks, the red tape and bureaucratic nonsense never failed to dampen what little spirits could be mustered up after expeditions. Granted, there was rarely call for high spirits with the rising death tolls incurred upon each excursion. As if the occasion for his trip wasn't depressing enough, the universe thought to add somber rainclouds to boot.

 _By Maria, this couldn't get any more dismal,_ he thought as he rounded another corner. With a slip of paper marking an address clamped in his right hand and a tightly folded cape pressed to his torso with the left, he made his way down the street, counting off the house numbers. A drop of water splattered on the white sheet, seeping into the fibers and smudging the delicate ink near the end and signaled the impending drizzle. He made to lift his own hood over his head while continuing forward. _16 Magnolia Road… 8… 10…_ It was a futile effort to reach the medium sized estate before the drops caught up to him, growing into a light shower. He finally neared the iron gate to the house in question, and made his way up a cobblestone path to the front doors.

The tall mahogany pieces loomed over Erwin, an impressive feat to accomplish over his six foot stature. It just served as another reminder for how much he hated this part – he was never the best person for offering condolences. Of course, an official courier for the military could always be dispatched for these kinds of jobs, but Emmerich deserved better than that. All of his brothers-in-arms deserved better. This was the least he could do. Opting to avoid the polished door knocker, he raised a fist and knocked at the door. It took every ounce of will to not gulp when the door swung open.

It was always a surprise to see who would be standing there. The men and women killed in action left a whole assortment of people behind; parents, lovers, children – all evidence that his comrades did indeed live and die for something. Children were always the worst for the deliverers of bad news. The wide-eyed, innocent stare up at the grim and imposing soldiers would morph into ones of confusion, terror, or for an unfortunate few, grim realization. Dark green eyes met cool blue ones, interrupting his thoughts as he looked down at the small woman. Barely reaching his chin, the diminutive brunette's stature changed from elated to calm in an instant, a name dying on her lips along with her smile.

Just as suddenly, her posture sprang back to one of propriety and grace, hands folding at her front and another smile reaching her face.

"Can I help you, sir?" she began. "Oh, I mean soldier," she amended, making note of his military garb. Her voice came out silvery and inviting. Address still clamped in his right hand, Erwin made to salute. Although it was rare for the nobility to have any direct control over military personnel they still demanded respects to be paid, and it wouldn't bode well for him to earn complaints to his superiors for a casualty notification assignment.

"Miss, is this the Maurer Estate? Is Emmerich Maurer II available?" He asked starkly. _Please let him be home_ he hoped. He was asked to break the news to the father, and was not looking forward to leaving the news to another. _Girlfriend, maybe? Emmerich never talked about his family, but did receive frequent letters. No, she couldn't be a lover, he and Mirka were still in the early stages of building a relationship when-_

"No, I'm sorry. He's still out at his meeting." She spoke over the drizzle of the rain, assessing the soldier's disheveled appearance. The rain had begun to seep into his cloak and stuck to his face, blond locks matted to his forehead with drops of water sliding off his straight nose. He looked imposing and miserable at the same time, earning a sympathetic smile. "If you have a message, I suppose you could wait out the shower here for a few minutes. He always gets home around this time, you wouldn't have to wait all that long, Mister… ah Mister?"

Erwin dropped his salute to respond. "Team Leader Erwin Smith," before mulling over his options. He could give her the news and be off. This wasn't a social call, and it'd be unprofessional to lounge in the home of a dead comrade. _The letter_ , he reminded himself. Images of his comrade flashed in his mind.

" _God there's blood everywhere… Oh Sina… Make sure this reaches… give it to my father. It has to reach his hands only. He needs to know! Markgraf Emmerich Maurer II! I'm sorry… by Sina!"_ _he gasped gruffly, snagging Erwin's arm in a death grip. A deep set of emerald yes pleaded at his superior. "Please let them know. I did this willingly. I died… I died proudly…" he trailed off, voice starting to slur from blood loss._

Erwin snapped back to reality, locking on the woman before him with the same eyes. "If that's not too much trouble, my Lady, I would appreciate that." Offering a smile of his own. She nodded and stepped aside for him to pass through before pulling the doors shut again.

"Alex," she smiled. "No need to be overly formal, I promise not to bite." Leading him to a lavish sitting room with patterned royal blue walls and dark oak trims. "Can I get you a drink? There's already some water for coffee at a boil, it will be no trouble. Something to warm you up from the rain?" she rattled on, the perfect courteous host. With a gentle nod from the man, she excused herself to the kitchen to check on the water's progress, leaving Erwin alone to his observations. It seemed like a lovely home, fitting for Emmerich. There was no denying his upper class origins, observed through overly formal slips of the tongue, or complete inability to break posture. Erwin sighed. It did no good to focus on it at this his command. Climbing the ranks over the last six year left him in a position to make life and death calls. The responsibility fell to him, to an extent. As did the blame. Placing the cape on his lap, he lifted his hand up to his brow, massaging the budding headache.

From the other room, the young woman had taken a silent watch at the threshold. She took in her own observations of the young man. Tall, broad shouldered, with blond hair in a soppy state from the rain. She guessed that were the weather better, it would be neater. As his head dipped down, his right hand joined the left in massaging his temples. A shapely jaw held firm lips drawn into a relatively calm face. And those EYEBROWS! Easily the most distinctive feature of his face, they did nothing to take away from his all-around look. In a word? Handsome. In two? Very handsome.

The squeal of steam from the stove drew her eyes away as she grabbed the flip pot and set it down to drip through. She had a few minutes before the coffee would finish dripping through the filter and thought to at least speak to the man. It was odd to have one of the soldiers report directly to the house – they usually knew where her father was and the meeting schedules. _Maybe a mix up?_ Her mind buzzed with curiosity as she stepped back into the sitting room, clearing her throat to gain the man's attention.

He looked up and eyes locked for a second time, and she began, "You'll have to excuse the drinks. The housekeeper, she just had her baby and we're still looking for new help."

"I'm sure it will be fine. You were gracious enough to let me stay here for the time being, I can't complain." He took a moment to observe the woman as she took a seat on the chair across from him. Well maintained lengthy chocolate brown hair trailed along to the small of her back, gathered at the very end in a blue ribbon, matching the royal crisp color of her gown. Appearance-wise she seemed a perfectly respectable member of the noble class, he just wasn't sure who exactly she was.

Her eyes flickered to a grandfather clock taking residence in the corner. _Father's late._ Opting to not sit in silence, Alex made it a goal to start conversation. "So, were you involved in that training exercise at the beginning of the week? The one with the newer recruits? I think that's the most exciting thing that's happened all month." Curious eyes peeked at him, gauging for any interest to be taken in the conversation.

"Ah… no. My squad was not involved in any… recent training exercises." Her face drooped at the clipped answer. _Shit… keep talking, don't upset her._ "How… how did the exercise go? Did the recruits seem well prepared?"

She actually took a moment to deliberate before answering. "Well, when my brother was in training he would write about how difficult the maneuver gear was to balance in his first months. That was… three – no, four years ago. If anything, the cadets didn't need help using the gear as opposed to using around each other. Group work and awareness was," she paused for a moment, pondering the least offensive way to phrase her assessment. "Lacking to say the least."

Erwin would have been lying if he said he wasn't taken aback. Eyebrows raised to consider her answer, and the fact the answer was serious to begin with. Even if she did have a family member who worked the military, he had not expected the most careful observations from the relatively self-centered upper classes. They seemed less interested in the training of their recruits and more focused on attempting to cut their budget. "To say the least? I'm afraid to hear what your harshest critique would be," he mused.

"Oh, I mean no offence to them as a whole. But you can hardly watch them barely escape two midair collisions and expect them to be battle ready. One even managed to fall through into the bazaar, poor thing." She let out a small chuckle, eyes cast down in sympathetic embarrassment.

"You're not wrong. A unit's ability to navigate around the environment and each other is crucial to survival," he commented. Erwin couldn't help but give a smirk, reminiscing about his own troupe's difficulties with the 3DMG.

" _Miles, what the hell! You could have sliced Mirka in two with that maneuver!"_

" _MAURER, KEEP MOVING – THIS IS NO TIME FOR STOPPING, SHIT WORK OR NO!"_

" _10 meter class approaching from the south!"_

Erwin's eyes flashed back to the present, lost for a second as Alex appeared to pick up the conversation.

"- I have no doubt that they'll keep those measures in place, so long as the officials continue being lenient. And we all know they will if it keeps lining their pockets on the side." Another winning smile – _Is it even possible to be that cheery? No, wait, she was saying something._ As he fumbled to salvage some kind of response, he was saved by the timely chime from the grandfather clock. Both turned to make note of the hands marking off the hour at seven. "You know, the coffee should be ready. I'll be back in a moment."

He nodded in assent as she left the room once again, left alone once more with his thoughts. In the corner of his eye he caught a glimmer, turning to see a portrait with a golden trimmed frame. The painting showed a family of four – a lean faced and sharp eyed man sat straight on the small bench, flanked by two young adults behind the seat and one residing beside him. They all wore the same emerald eyes and sly smiles which oozed an air of confidence. The girl on the couch beside him, clearly a younger version of Alex with a rounder face. The woman behind the seat held her head high, face framed with dark chocolate locks and next to her – Erwin gasped.

It took a moment for the realization to hit him before he felt the overwhelming urge to hit himself. _Sisters… shit. I just spent the last ten minutes with his sister and I'm supposed to be delivering her news of THIS?!_ He looked down at the stained cape. _You just HAD to make small talk, didn't you?_

Clearing her throat again, his eyes snapped back up to see her carrying a tray with the coffee pot, two cups, sugar, and a cream pitcher. His eyes cast back down in an attempt to hide the rising heat to his head. There would be no living this down, he knew it for a fact. Providing a mumbled answer to the questions "sugar," and "cream," he watched her prepare the two cups. Gingerly taking the cup from her delicate hands and resettling into the chair, he made it a point to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

"I apologize for my father's lateness. Something must have come up at the offices, he really is quite punctual. At this point I'm afraid that you might have found him sooner had I let you report back to the offices." All the while she gently stirred her drink, looking for a new topic to pass the time. "So are you new to the force? I don't recognize you as one of my father's regular assistants."

"Ah, that's probably because I'm not stationed here." _Better not to lie at this point._ "The Survey Corps is making its post expedition report." He moved the damp green cloth covering the Wings of Freedom insignia, seeing her eyes widen in what he assumed was interest. In actuality it was shock. _If he's a Survey Corps member, then they're back from the expedition – where the hell is Emmerich? He has never failed to visit when back in the interior for report._

Placing her cup down gently on a side table, she tried to clear her thoughts enough to comment. She was interrupted by sound of a door opening and slamming shut followed by gruff shouts.

"Selene! Selene – Damn it all, SELENE!" The muffled sound of boots stomping across the rugged floor had both Erwin and Alex at their feet to see the reason for all the commotion. "Were is the help when you need it the most?!" Rounding the corner was the same leaned face, sharp eyed man as depicted in the portrait, aged with greying hair and a close trimmed beard.

"Father, what in the world?" Alex chimed, walking over and placing a hand on the man's arm. He stopped his griping upon noticing the tall uniformed soldier in his home, green eyes widening for a moment before casting downwards. _He already knows_ , thought Erwin.

"Alexandria, who is this?" he asked with a much gentler tone.

"Ah, he's… he's…" she began, at a loss for words both confused by the new information he had disclosed and the dramatic state of her father. Erwin took the initiative, striking another salute.

"Sir, Team Leader Erwin Smith of the Survey Corps division reporting! Are you Markgraf Emmerich Maurer II? Father of Emmerich Maurer III?" His voice came out clipped, professional and stiff.

"Yes, this is my house. Report, soldier – what do you need?" His eyes were already stained red, face blank.

"Sir, on behalf of the Commander of the Survey Corps, I regret to inform you that your son Emmerich Maurer III was killed in action on the 5th of August outside the walls on expedition." The room was silent. Alex squeezed the fabric of her father's sleeve, her face morphing into one of shock and struggling to stand. She looked from the soldier to her father, whose face was held down with a grimace.

Her father, through grit teeth strained out a reply. "I… I already know." Erwin looked on the scene with a sense of pity. He was his first soldier to die under his command, and was far from the last. Clearing his throat and dropping his salute, he pulled the dried blood stained cloak off of the couch, holding out the personal article. Alex reached out for the cloak, and ran her hands over the insignia flecked with blood drops. The blue and silver of the Wings of Freedom stared back up at her as tears reached the corners of her eyes.

"There was also a letter addressed to you, sir." He pulled the envelope out from the inside of his jacket and held it out for him. The father gripped the envelope, threaded a thumb under the flap and broke the seal. He extracted two folded sheets, and handed one off to his daughter with her name scrawled on the back. The two read silently, Alex's hand moving up to her mouth and tears trickling down her cheeks. Erwin simply waited. It was rare to have many articles to return to the families, and under normal circumstances he would have been quickly dismissed, leaving the next-of-kin to their grief. His dismissal had yet to be uttered.

The father's face was the first to come up from reading, eyes still hard. It was always a difficult burden to notify the families, but Erwin could see the broken nature of his eyes. It would never amount to the pain of receiving the information. Slowly, Alex's face rose from the letter to meet Erwin's, before returning to her father. The room was still silent, cloaked in shadow from the rolling rain clouds outside.

"Thank you, for returning his affects to us." The father's voice was hardened, detached. "Alexandria… please, show our guest out." He shuffled out, posture breaking and the sound of muffled feet growing distant as he ascended a staircase back in the hall. Alex was still in shock, clamping the paper between her hands. She began to move slowly, back turned to the solder as she set the letter down beside her forgotten drink. Erwin couldn't help but look nervously between her and the hallway, debating the benefits of excusing himself and just leaving. He was anything but a coward but the detached reactions made him feel like an intruder. Taking a small step forward, he was stopped by sound of a sniffle.

"P-please allow me to show you out." She began gently, turning back to Erwin with her voice cracking under tremendous effort, all traces of cheer lost. She led him back through the entrance hall, opening the door to the outside. The rain had picked up since he first entered, and he once again brought his hood up over his head. Taking a step out threshold, he muttered a condolence. A hand shot out, gripping the trim of his cloak and stopping him from making an exit.

"Did… did you know him?" she said just loudly enough to be heard over the sound of rain smacking on cobblestone.

"I did," he began while averting his eyes downward. "He… died proudly. Of that I'm sure. Defending another member of his team." She had showed him courtesy, and it was under his command that her brother had died. Offering answers for some closure was something he could easily do.

"That's just like him." She gave a sad smile as water tricked down her face more freely, looking upwards and trying to blink them away. "Thank you, Mr. Smith." She released her hand and moved to shut the towering door. As it closed with a click, the light from the inside disappeared, leaving Erwin in the shadowed dark. The late sun was nowhere to be found and he turned back to make his leave and report back.

He tried to ignore the sobbing behind him as he stepped out into the rain.

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 **AN: I really should be doing homework. I actually spent an hour researching how coffee was made for this, instead of writing dialectical journals. So yeah… This story idea hit me in the middle of break, and after buying Hiroyuki Sawano's amazing album Yamanaiame and listening to it for three days straight, I finally got around to writing this. I will probably work with both the Anime and Manga, plus the OVAs (I can't wait to get to Jean's episode… eventually) and A Choice With No Regrets. Please review, I'd love the chance to improve my writing skills through this. I doubt I'll be able to update regularly – Senior Year is hell. But I really do want to continue this. Thanks for reading. :)**

 **\- Miamigirl**


	2. Chapter 1 - Hushed Greetings

Chapter One – Hushed Greetings

Year 847

The mattress released a rush of air under the weight of its new occupant. Mimicking the bed, said occupant heaved a sigh, splaying out her arms and legs with closed eyes. She felt exhausted beyond words, taking tally of the aches across her body. Her slim frame was most certainly not used to _this_ brand of work, and it was made ever apparent as the soreness began to set in along her calves. Darkness surrounded her for the next few minutes as she was alone with her thoughts. _I should consider myself grateful,_ she thought. From what little she heard in the cafeteria, newly-dubbed Potato-girl was still running. _And a fight broke out within the first night – Maria, what have I gotten myself into?_

Her thoughts were interrupted as the door squeaked open with a tall and lithe figure slipping through. The lanterns were off, as she had forgone fumbling with a match in the last streaks of daylight in favor of stumbling to her assigned bunk. For a moment all was silent as the dark silhouette groped with something at the front before a soft glow emanated from the far side of the barracks. She squeezed her eyes shut in attempt to avoid the glow while listening to the sound of boots clicking against the hardwood floor. The steps sounded light in weight and yet… heavy. Deliberate. And slow? Ears perked as the noise slowly drew closer, and she prayed that whoever this was didn't want to disturb her. _I just want to sleep – is that so much to ask fo-_

"Excuse me?" Came a smooth voice from the foot of the bed. "I think you're in my bunk." Ice blue eyes snapped open and the bed-occupant scrambled to vacate the mattress despite her muscles chorusing in protest, all the while mumbling various apologies.

"Oh my goodness, I'm so sorry – I had no intention of intruding. And I've even gone and ruined the bedsheets, crap! You must think I was raised in a barn – I'm so sorry!" She fumbled around the edge of the bed and bowed her head, falling silent while awaiting a response.

"It's… fine. No harm done." She began, setting her lantern in the crook of her arm and offering a small nod of the head. She had raven black hair that fell past her shoulders and large, muted gray eyes, accompanied by a distinctive red scarf. An elegant, yet foreign face looked down on her with an awkward gaze, not sure how to respond. "Which number is your assignment?"

The bed-thief peeked upward through her fallen hair, and took up a straightened posture. While the lack of slouching did increase her height by a couple of inches, she was veritably flanked by the other girl. "Oh, I should be in building N, bunk eight. This one clearly said N-"

"N- seven and eight. You've got the top bunk, I think." The raven-hair pointed to the screwed in plaque with the stamped bronze reading clearly _N7/N8._ The bed-thief's cheeks quickly bloomed red as embarrassment flooded through. Making to bow her head once again she squeaked out another round of apologetic mumblings.

"I'm sorry again. It… it looks like we'll be bunk-mates, I hope I can make this up to you in the coming days." _This was not how I needed to end the day. Have to smooth things over – polite introductions, you fool!_ "I-I'm Charlotte Maurer, Mitras District." She made to peek up at the other once more, and noticed a look of discomfort directed at her bowing. _Don't be overly formal – this is not the place for such pleasantries._ Her posture straightened once more before she deliberately moved herself into to a more relaxed state.

"Mikasa Ackerman," she began before hesitating. A look of uncertainty crossed her eyes before finishing off, "Shiganshina District." Understanding hit Charlotte and another wave of embarrassment flowed through her. District origin was a point of pride in Wall Sina, another thing for the upper class to measure each other up by. But the look on Mikasa's face at the mentioning of her home was enough to make Charlotte blanch at her faux-pas.

"Ah, I'm…" _I'm what?! Sorry to hear that? She doesn't want to talk about it and you'll sound like an ass, like that guy in the cafeteria earlier – no turn the conversation to a positive,_ "glad to meet you, Mikasa." Charlotte moved a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Listen, I am truly sorry about the bed mix-up. If there's anything I can do to make it up to you, let me know." She offered out her hand and a bright smile, to which Mikasa returned, albeit with slightly less energy.

"It's alright." The answer was clipped – not out of anger, for her caramel rich voice betrayed none. Maybe she was just frank? Mikasa mirrored the gesture, bushing hair out of her face before halting midway. "A-actually, um… Charlotte, could I ask you to do something for me? I know it might sound a little off but," she paused again, looking away from the other girl. "Could you… could you help me cut my hair?"

Charlotte held in the urge to gasp, "Of course, but, are you sure? Your hair looks lovely, I don't think I've ever seen another with it so dark." At this point, more females had begun to trickle into the barracks, with one of the new occupants discovering the knobs which controlled the preinstalled lantern fixtures. As light and steady noise grew, Mikasa appeared to rethink her request for a time. Her eyes took on a determined calm and locked onto her bunk-mate.

"Yes. If you could, I would… appreciate it." The two exchanged a nod of understanding and Charlotte made her way over to the trunks at the end of the bed. The two had small copper plaques with room and position designation as well, and gazing inside, she was pleasantly surprised that her duffle had made its way into the box. Thankfully the facility staff appeared efficient – she had been terrified earlier when all personal effects, including the change of night and civilian clothes that had been clearly detailed on the list as items that were approved, had been confiscated at the last checkpoint.

Rummaging through the bag, she extracted a comb and delicate brush. Looking down to her boot, she debated trying to find a pair of scissors somewhere in the vicinity. No chance any of these girls had one on them, and asking would only earn her confused stares. In her crouched position, using the cover of the trunk, she extracted a bundle of cloth from her boot and made her way back to Mikasa, who was sitting on her bunk and had removed her scarf, boots and jacket, running fingers through her locks. Charlotte stared into her grey eyes, her body tense.

"If you want me to cut your hair, we have to do it in the upper bunk." Her voice came out tight as opposed to the nervous yet light tones Mikasa heard earlier. Returning a small nod, she made her way to stand, and followed the smaller girl around the bunk and up the wooden ladder. The bedframe made quiet squeaks in protest of the girls shuffling around up top. Charlotte situated herself at the foot of the bed, with Mikasa taking the head. Slowly, the smaller of the two unloaded the bundle of objects in her arms.

"Can you take the pillow slip off? I wouldn't want the hair to be stuck up here." Mikasa made to retrieve the pillow, and slid the cushion from its cloth cover. Turning around, she saw Charlotte clutching something to her chest, eyes wide. "You have to promise to not tell anyone. Please." Mikasa's eyes narrowed in confusion, but she gave another affirmative nod. Gently, Charlotte brought the object to view, a leather sheathe with a smooth wooden handle sticking out. Using her right hand to steady the handle, she pulled out a blade, about 10 centimeters long.

It was Mikasa's turn to hold in a slight gasp. Every point along the carriage trail to the training camp, it was made abundantly clear that outside weapons were forbidden. She had no clue how to respond properly, and Charlotte took the stunned silence as an opportunity to hastily explain.

"It's never been used. More of a tool really, only for emergencies. There are no scissors and it's the only thing I can think of to cut with." Mikasa took in the girl in her entirety. In all honesty, she didn't feel threatened by the petite youth in the slightest. As a risk, she didn't appear to be one of note.

"It's fine. I won't say anything." Her voice was still calm, and she saw the girl release a breath. "How did you get that in though? And why do you need it?" she questioned. Ice blue eyes studied the small knife, mulling over an appropriate answer.

"I snuck it in my boot. There were bag checks along the carriage route here, but they don't check you personally after you're on the trail." She set the knife down at her side and motioned for her bunk-mate to turn around. Running fingers through the girl's hair, another set of question was presented.

"You got it while you were with the trail? The same trail that is closely monitored by soldiers day and night?" a hint of skepticism leaked through her tone.

"Not exactly. They don't do thorough checks for us in Mitras. The recruiters don't exactly have people lining up to join the military in the central districts. By the time we got to the major checkpoints that everyone goes through, they had stopped checking carefully." She moved to pick up the brush, running it through the pitch-black hair, smoothing out any tangles or knots.

"I see. So why did you have it in the first place?" she asked again. Charlotte didn't hesitate in her answer at the slightest.

"I made a promise to stay safe. This was my Grandfather's way of helping me keep it. Is to the chin alright?" Mikasa nodded and she began sectioning off the hair in relative quiet, as the movement of girls around their bunk blurred into the background, and the glow of lanterns illuminated her work.

"That's… vague." Came Mikasa's reply after a few moments. Charlotte's hands pinched the edge of a section, holding it tight in two spots with one hand, and steadying the knife with her other. She brought the leather sheath below the section and set the knife against the hair, caught between the two objects. _Maria, I hope this doesn't look awful._

"You didn't ask for specifics." _**Fffff –**_ She slid the knife across the hair and leather, accompanied by a light scratching sound. The duo remained silent for a time as the impromptu-stylist found a rhythm for cutting the coal strands. Occasionally she brushed the fallen locks off of her back onto the pillow case, and all the while her arms protested with slight aches. But the silence was comfortable as the remaining girls in the barracks went about their own business. Talk was loud and dull at the same time, as many were exhausted from the trying day. _It's funny. I never imagined myself doing something so… quaint. Not in boot camp._ In her comfortable rhythm, Charlotte allowed herself to reflect on day, falling into memories.

 _The atmosphere was forcibly relaxed at the last checkpoint. The carriage trail had brought all newly joined recruits from every corner of humanity's territory, all meeting in an area in the south within wall Rose. Incoming recruits were required to check in, relinquish all personal goods, and move into a common area. The carriages were timed so that all newcomers would arrive on the same day, and some provisions were offered within the common area. All the adult staff there held a look that read "Oh Maria, you all are about to have the worst three years of your lives." Many took the time to have their fill of food, others to relieve themselves, while most simply mingled in joint nervousness. Charlotte's carriage was among the last to arrive and she made her way to the food table, grabbing a bread roll for a last-minute breakfast._

 _Nervous chatter between the sleepy recruits was called to a stop as a voice rang in the front of the room. "Everyone on your feet and get outside!" The voice wasn't quite at a shout, but possessed enough fire to make the newcomers' hearts race. Charlotte ran out with the rest as they all gathered with no real direction to take from there. The voice from earlier returned, telling recruits to get in single file along the side of their assigned carriages, followed by a "do you understand?!" Some reserved 'yes sir's' rang out along with a few snickers, while the rest remained silent. The voice rang out once again from behind them, now fully risen to its foreshadowed shout._

" _THE CORRECT RESPONSE IS YES SIR – I REPEAT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND!" At that, all answered in chorus, Charlotte with a little more fire that perhaps was necessary. As Charlotte's group made their way to line up, one of the riders, a boy about a head taller than herself, glanced at the movement of a shadow to the left. The response was immediate, as the soldier from earlier rang out "HEAD AND EYEBALLS TO THE FRONT, CADETE!" Said boy made no motion, eyes widening at the shock of having been called out. "DID I FUCKING STUTTER!? I SAID_ _ **EYES TO THE FRONT, CADETE!**_ _" At that, the boy corrected his posture and the remaining members of the line barely dared to breathe, let alone move._

 _The instructor did not appear satisfied, and stormed up to the offending recruit. "I SUPPOSE I DON'T RATE A RESPONSE, IS THAT RIGHT CADETE?" The recruit tensed further and looked at him as he blurted out a muffled 'n-no sir!' If anything, the response made the instructor more fumed, as he belted out additional reprimands. "I GUESS I SAID LOOK AT ME RIGHT?! KEEP YOUR HEAD AND EYES FRONT, YES SIR!" The offending boy responded with a 'yes sir' of his own before the instructor stalked off to scar more cadets while the carriages were loaded._

 _Finally a shout rang out to the whole group once more as all were situated in the various carriages. "You will all keep your heads in your laps until you are told otherwise, do you understand?" A chorus of 'yes sirs' was once again heard through all the cadets, following the instructions now without hesitation. Charlotte's breaths came out hot against the uniform pants and the heat rose onto her face. It was suffocating, but she didn't dare raise her head for respite and allowed the stuffy feeling to remain._ Don't you dare screw this up, _she thought to herself._ Don't you dare mess this up so early in. You have a plan, don't you **dare** screw this up.

 _The carriages moved forward at an agonizingly slow pace, and she quickly lost track of how long it had been since she boarded the carriage. The area between her shoulder blades and lower on her back were becoming sore, and yet she still remained silent. With every bump along the dirt road the carriage lurched and bounced, shuffling the passengers within. This emotions were both high and low, a mixture of nervousness, excitement, and complete boredom. By the time the carriages had moved to a stop, the heat had become much more intense, and not a single recruit was without beads of sweat dribbling over their brows. Charlotte noticed that the carriage was on a decline for some time, having been leaning to one side for about five minutes now._

 _A softer voice interrupted her thoughts, as a man peered into the back of the covered carriage. "You are to stand up and exit the carriage in a quick and orderly fashion. You will move into the emptied field and fall into rows of twelve. You_ _ **will**_ _do this as fast as humanly possible." The voice was replaced as the owner took in a deep breath before releasing, "DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"_

 _The whole cart shouted back an intense 'yes sir,' soon to become one of their most used phrases, as heads rose to look at the new announcer. If anything, his voice was more terrifying than the first, intense and gravely. The group was unable to get a look at the face of the owner, only the back of a bald and darkened head. The group shuffled out and rushed to side of the carriage, spotting the cleared and barren field before making a beeline for it. They fell in step behind recruits already positioned in the field and were soon joined by even more. Within a half hour, the entirety of the 104_ _th_ _Trainees Squad was lined up, motionless while facing forward towards more nothingness in the clearing._

 _Charlotte took a moment to observe what she could of the area. Without turning around, she made note of the lack of trees, or any hint of green for that matter. The accompanying heat of the midday sun had her convinced she was in a desert._ And a fence. A barbed wire-laced fence. Lovely. _The camp appeared surrounded by cliff side on one half, at least._ That explains the decline. A ramp of some sort? _To her right stood a tall guard tower, flanked by buildings on both sides. A mountain range seemed to crop up beyond the cliff side and the buildings looped back around behind her field of vision, so she assumed there was more to the institution. It appeared to be effectively located in the middle of nowhere. The craggy rock face made the entire place feel imposing – insurmountable almost. Pushing down the urge to gulp, Charlotte chastised herself._ Don't be intimidated, that's what they want. They're going to try and break us here. You have to resist that. You made a promise, don't falter.

 _Once again shouting ensued, calling for the group to 'offer up your hearts,' with the trainees responding in kind with a salute to arms. Right fists firmly pressed against their chests as the instructor from the carriage began a drill-down._

" _I AM INSTRUCTOR SHADIS! But from now on, you will all refer to me as 'Sir,' something you piss-ants had better get used to! I am here to inform you that for the next three years of your miserable lives you will be next-to-nothing! From here on out you are worthless swine, all of you less than TRASH! There is not a single thing within these walls that you are above!" By this point, all breath had been stilled among the recruits. There was not a hint of giggling as when they first boarded the carriages at the last stop. That morning seemed years away, under the blazing sun. "I am here to turn you into weapons capable of facing the titan threat – and yes, you fucking heard me right! There is no such thing as avoiding your duty in preparing for that threat. If you aren't prepared for that possibility get your ass out of my sight immediately!" Not a movement was registered among the recruits._

" _Oh, so you think you all are A-o-fucking-kay to stay, huh? You think you all have what it takes to take up space in MY camp? Remember, you are less than trash! If the king deigns to spend money on your assess trying to whip them into shape, you had better – fucking – DELIVER!"_ A bit melodramatic, yeah? Who am I kidding, this guy is terrifying _, thought Charlotte_. _Seeing him facing forward, the man was the pinnacle of intimidation, with his pristine trench coat uniform and trimmed beard showing an air of officially while his hazel eyes shone a deafening rage._

 _He made his way along the first two rows, calling for names and hometown. As he moved further down along the second row, panic struck her and a fresh sweat broke out along her brow._ Will they check this on records? Will they check familial status? His name is on my form, goddammit what do I do? Her name is on it too, will they question if I use it? And he's asking what they're doing here? He wants us to fight titans, do I tell the truth? Will he know? Shit shit shit shit…

 _As struggle ensued her mind, she failed to notice Shadis had moved through the two lines ahead of her, and was fast approaching her position in the middle. Currently grilling on the candidate to her left._ He skipped some? What the hell am I going to say?

" _Who the hell are you?!" he shouted –_ By Maria, all the shouting!

" _I'm Jean Kirstein, from Trost district, sir!" he responded. Ash brown hair clipped at the top flanked light brown eyes as he stared forward intently._

" _What are you here for?" At this, the recruit took a moment, appearing surprised by the question._ As if he hadn't been asking that same question to everyone else, _she thought. If she wasn't too afraid to roll her eyes at this point…_

 _A look of confidence flooded his long face, and the hint of a smirk crossed lips. "To join the Military Police Brigade and reside in the inner district, sir." Eyes from all around flit over to the cadets, Charlotte's included._ Well, he's certainly blunt, _she thought. Shadis' angry eyes remained unchanged, as he pressed on._

" _I see. So you want to live in the Inner District?" he began. The boy's face grew hopeful, and appeared to strike an understanding._

" _Yes, sir! I-" he began, before a swift strike to the head had the boy on his knees, resuming the position they had left in the carriages. The strike, which came from Shadis' own head, didn't seem to affect the drill sergeant in the slightest, as he continued from his earlier tirades._

" _DID I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO SIT, KIRSTEIN? If you can't handle_ _ **that**_ _, you'll never make it into the Military Police Brigade!" Charlotte's eyes widened in fear just in time for the instructor to whip his head in her direction. Taking a step forward, he leaned over her small frame and into her face. Eyes widening to their fullest, it took every ounce of control to avoid gulping._ Don't screw this up, this is nothing, he is nothing, you are a Maurer. You cannot allow this to intimidate you _–_

" _Who the fuck are you, short stack?!" His thin brows drew in threateningly and she couldn't even begin to count the number of frown lines the man sported on his forehead._

" _CHARLOTTE MAURER OF M-MITRAS DISTRICT!" she shouted back with unintentional force, face paling as all she held perfectly still. Shadis merely blinked slowly in return before hollering back._

" _Oh, one of you interior porcelain dolls, huh? What are you doing here?"_ This is a test, don't be stupid! Thisisatest-

" _Keeping a promise, sir!"_ Oh shit. _She had done it now. The instructor moved back up, away from her face, and the only noise was the muffled groans from the cadet to her left. Shadis took a moment to look her up and down and resumed his grilling once more._

" _Oh, that's cute. You think you're fit to stay in my camp? You think that you can handle what lies beyond these walls? I've seen your porcelain kind get slaughtered out there, now they won't even fit in the handbaskets we ship back to their families! You think you_ _ **deserve**_ _to stay in my camp? You had better think twice about that – If you're staying you had best understand you're NOTHING here or there from now on and you best get fucking used to it!"_

" _YES SIR!" she shouted back, eyes just about bulging out of her head. Shadis moved on to the next recruit before finishing off the row, calling them to an about face. Charlotte dozed off for a minute, trying to control the nerves in her body from shaking._ That was… nothing, yeah? No, that was harrowing. _Her stomach squelched as she did everything in her power to avoid throwing up. The sun continued bearing down upon them and all she wished for was a sip of water. Not a hint of breeze would flit past anytime soon, leaving her there to suffer in silence._

 _She took a moment to observe the rest of the compound from her new position, seeing that yes, indeed, they were surrounded by cliffs. The buildings of various sizes on the other side of the watch tower continued to loop around, halfway up the basin. She was drawn away from her view upon hearing angrier (if that was even possible?!) shouting another two rows down. Shadis stared down another brunette, this one much taller than herself. She couldn't make out the exact words over the buzzing of her head, but saw the girl offer out a hand with –_ is that a potato? _Understanding clicked as she saw the shine of foil at the girl's feet._ From this morning? She took one of the potatoes and decided to eat it here of all places? _Shadis appeared stunned as a meek grin adorned the girl's face. Shadis took the piece of potato, appearing mystified by its existence, voice falling to a low murmur for a moment._

 _It was not to last as his voice raised, yet again, to ear shattering levels revealing to Charlotte the identity of the potato-eater. "SASHA BLOUSE, YOU WILL RUN LAPS UNTIL YOUR LEGS ARE NO LONGER ABLE TO SUSTAIN THE WEIGHT OF YOUR BODY! YOU WILL RUN TO THE POINT WHERE YOU COLLAPSE FROM EXHAUSTION!" He clenched the potato half in his right hand before throwing it to the ground and smashing it with the heel of his boot. Sasha's eyes remained intimidated, but widened to the size of tea saucers as he amended, "AND YOU WILL NOT RECEIVE DINNER FOR THE EVENING,_ _ **AM I UNDERSTOOD!**_ _"_

 _Calling the row to about face, nothing nearly as notable occurred for the remainder of the drilldown. They were called to be released and made their way along the field for beginning exercises. The group was commanded to run two laps around the field before being taught the fundamentals of marching and proper call and response. Sasha continued to run laps throughout the lesson and, true to his word, was forced to skip the evening meal as the remaining recruits made their way up to the cafeteria house._

 _Charlotte's stomach had yet to recover from the drilldown, and was put off at the sight of her dinner. A beef broth made from boiled bones was accompanied by some kind of cornmeal and a roll. Sitting off to the side, her stomach rolled as the offending smell reached her nose._ Okay, so this isn't what you're used to eating. But this is what you have to do. You made a plan, and you made it this far. _She tried to gulp down her apprehension, taking a bite out of the bread which appeared safe. It was fairly average, if not flat, but edible. The cornmeal, however, was not, and she made her way out of the cafeteria unnoticed just as a commotion broke out along the far wall between two other boys._

 _She made every effort to gracefully stumble into the bath house and swished a handful of water through her mouth before spitting. Looking back at the glow of the cafeteria, she weighed her options. Her aching body and nervous stomach answered the question of returning for her, and she opted for finding her assigned bunkhouse. Barrack assignments were given out before dinner, and as the sun began to set over the mountain edge, she found her way to building N. With the last lights of the day fading fast, she approached the first bunk with the number 8 on it and collapsed, releasing a huff of air from the mattress._

"All done!" Charlotte cheered, clearing the last of the fallen hair off Mikasa's back and onto the cloth. She carefully sheathed her blade, taking care to wrap it in cloth once again before stuffing it back into her boot. "Wait here," she began and crawled around her bunkmate, descending the ladder. Moving to the foot of the bed, she hastily stashed her brush and comb in her trunk before rummaging once more. Finding her prize, she rushed back up the ladder and held out a small, rounded mirror to Mikasa. "So what do you think?"

Grey eyes took a moment to scan the petite-girl's handiwork. For lacking proper scissors, Charlotte thought it was an above adequate job. It may have looked choppy along the back from her first cuts, but she hoped it would grow in quickly. And she did manage to fix her brief slip-up along the right side, allowing her bangs to fall into it. Meager though her pride in her own work, she awaited Mikasa's verdict. _It is her hair, after all._

Grey eyes lit up briefly upon looking at her own reflection and her delicate brow raised. It wasn't in anger at the job, more in surprise. She looked up at her excited bunk mate, and dipped her head in another affirmative nod with a small smile gracing her lips. Charlotte was in a small trance – the exotic girl was a beauty for sure. A brighter smile widened across her own lips at seeing the raven-haired girl's satisfaction, even if it appeared small.

She made to grab the pillow slip with the hair and took it down with her, Mikasa following behind. Running to the front door, she beat out the offending strands from the cloth. In the distance, lit by the soft glow of the torches near the cafeteria, she saw three figures hobbling along the way to the barracks. _Sasha maybe?_ She threw the slip over her shoulder before stepping back inside, throwing the slip onto the top bunk before opening her trunk for the last time of the evening and changing into her nightshirt, slipping her knife into the long sleeve. The light and loose cotton felt like heaven compared to the restrictive uniform, and she stretched out her arms wide before feeling a tap at her shoulder. Mikasa stood, already in her night ensemble before bowing her head to the small girl.

"Thank you for taking the time to help me. It means a lot." Her caramel voice was quieter now, with attention to some of the other girls who had made their way to sleep earlier.

"It was nothing, Mikasa. Thank you for trusting me to do it." She smiled again, nodding her head.

"I can do yours too if you want. Tomorrow, so we have some time to find real scissors…" she trailed off as she saw Charlotte bring a hand up to her chocolate brown hair, fastened into a low bun with two shorter sections framing the sides of her face.

Her voice dropped to a less bright octave while maintaining its bell tone. "Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline." She offered an apologetic smile to the taller girl, trying to maintain the warmth of her voice and smile. Mikasa's warmer expression drooped only a hint before nodding in understanding.

"Alright, well… goodnight, I guess. Thank you again." She shook her hand through her hair, seeming stunned by its weight while turning to the lower bunk. Gripping the blade beneath her sleeve, Charlotte made her way up into her own bunk, and fixed the pillow slip. Placing the blade gently back onto the bed, she set the pillow down on top before undoing the fixture in her hair. Shaking her hand through the strands, she allowed it to slide down past her shoulder blades.

She took a moment to delve into the blankets that covered her mattress, and slid her left hand under the pillow, feeling for the edge of her blade with her fingertips. Although her proficiency at using it would be best described as less than adequate, the gesture did provide some measure of comfort. Adjusting her other hand in front of her face, she gazed reverently at the ring that adorned her ring-finger. A thin polished silver band with arms curving outward before folding back in held a small rounded stone, smoothed through gentle craftsmanship. The stone, a deep greed emerald with hints of blue somewhere under the surface, gazed back at her. She spoke gently to the stone, whispers meant for two sets of ears alone.

"I told you I would do it. Keeping my promise after all these years... I'll get there, I don't care what I have to do. I'll return home to you, and Grandfather… I swear it." Blinking after a moment, she moved her hand back under the sheets, pulling them up to her neck and snuggling her head deeper into her pillow. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and worked to clear her mind. Before slipping into unconsciousness, a single thought flittered though her mind gently. A medium sized estate along the northern most wall in Mitras.

Safety.

* * *

 **AN: I know, I'm late. And I really am sorry, my excuse is lame and school related (semester exams) and totally unacceptable. I kinda pushed the word count as a way to make up for it. I know I made a big deal about update goals on my profile and just kind of pissed that away, so yeah… my apologies.**

 **On a brighter note – holy butts I have readers?! Like, 29 of you guys read this, something that I wrote. And four of you actually followed, JEEZ I was not expecting that. Thank you guys so much, it means the world to me to see someone is actually interested in what I have to write. It's a weird feeling, but very encouraging. So that's a thing now, I actually feel responsible for keeping this going.**

 **Ah, the illustrious potato scene. I think I've read at least five iterations of this that struck me as unique, and I tried to recreate it with my own twist. Inspiration for most of the carriage stuff came from experiences of US Marines in their first hours of boot camp, and I even got my Uncle's input on some of it. I would have looked into German-based information, as I ascribe to the idea that most of the culture displayed is Germanic in nature, but I can't actually read the language. So for future reference, most military jargon will be based off of the show/manga first, and supplemented by what I can find in relation to US training. If anyone out there knows more about the German military's inner workings (now or historical), feel free to hit me up. I love trying to add an extra dose of authenticity to my work.**

 **No Armin yet, and I'm still trying to figure out how this is going to be structured. I'm thinking I switch between reference points of Alex and Charlotte's lives, so if I still like that idea in the coming week we'll probably see Erwin again next chapter, and Armin's first appearance in chapter 4. How did you guys like the chapter titles? They always make me sound pretentious, but if I get no complaints I'll probably try and continue.**

 **Please leave a review if you're feeling generous. Comments, critiques, all is welcome if it gives me the chance to improve. Thanks for reading!**

 **-Miamigirl**


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